Jesus of Suburbia (Came Home in September)
by artsc
Summary: Beca moves to Suburbia, where she meets a trio of suburban teenagers trapped by television and conformity. Based off of the music from Green Day's American Idiot, the musical. Eventual Bechloe.


Welcome to Suburbia, where everything is meant to be okay. Here we have a family in every house, with a mom, a dad, and at least one kid. On Saturdays, they can be found in the backyard or at the park across the bridge. There's a pool that claims to be public, a library that functions more as an information shoot-up station filled with prep tutors armed with Ritalin, and a mall with exactly one stall with graffiti.

The Posen's. The Swanson's. The Applebaum's. 489, 490, and 491, respectively. Cul-de-sac kids and sports utility vehicles.

The Beale's live on 492 Oak Boulevard. Peter and Anne have lived there for eighteen years. Chloe is their daughter, just over a half-year away from her eighteenth birthday.

Welcome to Suburbia.

Welcome home.

**American Idiot**

The white door swung open, revealing the blank, slightly blue-ish walls of the entryway.

"Hello, um, Rebecca?" Chloe stood on the porch with a metal pan in her hands, covered with a paper towel.

"Depends on who wants to know," Beca replied flatly. She looked at Chloe, standing there with three others. "So, who are you?"

Aubrey stepped forward.

"I'm Aubrey. This is Jesse, Benji, and Chloe."

"Your names all end the same way, you realize that, right? That's weird. Really weird." Beca crossed her arms and waited.

A few seconds passed.

Chloe tried to peer around Beca to see inside, but Beca leaned forward, blocking her view.

"Anyways," Chloe said as she shifted the pan to one hand, "these are for you and your family. Welcome!" Her red hair bounced as she jumped up at her last word.

"Yeah, cool. Now fuck off before I kill one of you."

Beca took the pan, stepped back, and slammed the door.

/

"She's not going to fit here," Aubrey muttered.

"I think this will go well!" Typical Chloe to be so cheerful.

"Can we just go now? I don't like standing on people's porches when they've essentially kicked us out," Benji asked, already halfway down the two steps of the porch.

"Yeah, I can't miss the new episode today, it starts in five minutes," Jesse said, checking his watch. He looked around at his three friends, motioned to his house across the street, and led the way to his couch.

**Jesus of Suburbia**

Beca collapsed onto her own couch. She had claimed the basement as her territory, along with the sagging couch, fifteen-year-old television, and plastic milk crate.

She kicked her boot against the milk crate while she waited for the television to turn on. For a busted up piece of plastic, though, it actually worked pretty well.

"So this is home," she said to herself. "Well, they lied. This isn't home; it isn't where 'your heart is' or any of that shit."

Her phone buzzed.

_Behave while I'm out with Brad. –mom_

"Hypocrite. Like she was expected to 'play nice' all the time. You know what? I don't care. I have therapy tomorrow; I'll bitch about it then. For now, though…" She kicked the crate again and fished under the couch for the remote. "Yeah, who needs that when I've got this?"

The television flickered to life. The first thing that came up was a news broadcast, but Beca immediately changed the channel. The next one was a kid's channel, then reality shows, then teen fodder, then finally back to the news.

_This is the age of Paranoia!_

_Beware!_

_ Teenage Counterculture!_

"Fucking lies," Beca whispered under her breath. "I'm leaving. I need to get out. Because I can't fucking breathe here."

Maybe it was the mold from the closet behind her. Maybe it was symbolic. Either way, she ended up hiding in a tree in the middle of the cul-de-sac with a handful of beer bottles and a marker in her pocket. The future of vandalism never felt so pathetic.

**Extraordinary Girl**

Chloe wandered away from the group. She was never one to really get into television or shows. She wandered around the cul-de-sac for a few minutes, just thinking about anything that caught her attention. A rustle of leaves pulled her out of her concentration.

"Hello?" She walked towards the circle of bushes and trees in the middle of the roundabout.

Beca froze in her spot at the top of the tree and didn't make a sound. Chloe looked around, saw Beca, and walked away.

The tree in her own yard was just as tall as the one Beca was in. The perfect place to observe from. She watched as Beca downed two beers and tugged at the leaves around her.

"She doesn't belong here," Chloe said to herself. "She's done with this place already, she's sick of it. It's amazing."

/

"Hey!"

"Fuck! What the hell?"

"Hey," Chloe repeated, saddling the branch across from Beca.

"Chloe, right?"

"Yeah. Rebecca?"

"Beca. You drink?"

"Um… sure."

Beca handed a bottle to Chloe, who hesitantly brought it to her mouth.

"Good?"

"Yeah. Want to go to the mall, get out of the neighborhood?"

"Sure."

Chloe sighed in relief. She was just as done as Beca.

**Wake Me Up When September Ends**

"My dad left, like the dick he is," Beca explained. "My mom decided suburbs would be cool. Now I'm waiting for September. My birthday."

They were sitting on the ground outside the door to the mall. People walked by, not even noticing them.

"So, what are you doing until then?" Chloe noticed how Beca was almost dazed, almost asleep.

"I wait, I go day by day. Just have to remember to wake up from this when the time comes," she whispered. "Can't stay in my head forever."

She stood up and walked inside, followed closely by Chloe. They turned corners, went up an escalator, and ended up in the bathroom. As if by instinct, Beca went to the one with the sparse graffiti and broken lock.

_September. Escape the hysteria. Run away, leave home._

"Why that? I mean, you could say anything," Chloe asked, amazed at Beca's ease at writing on the stall.

"This is the only thing I have to say until then."


End file.
